


Twisted Fate

by Reiuji



Category: Hataraku Maou-Sama! | The Devil Is a Part-Timer!
Genre: Devil is a Part-Timer, Ente Isla AU, F/M, MaouEmi, MaouxEmi, SatanxEmilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6382426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiuji/pseuds/Reiuji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since she was a young girl, Emilia found herself in the care of the Demon Lord Satan. Instead of becoming the gilded Hero of the Church, she becomes his most fearful Demon General instead. How will the events change henceforth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Fate

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an idea that I had when I read a pixiv comic about a young Emilia in Satan's care, so I wondered what would happen if she never became the Hero, but joined Satan's army, haha. And this is the product of such a thought.
> 
> It is written in Emilia's POV, btw.

In a far, far world lies a continent on the great ocean of Ignora, consisting of four islands in each cardinal direction – north, south, east and west, whereas a fifth island lay in the center. These islands form the continent known as Ente Isla, the land blessed by the gods and watched over by the angels of Heaven.

The Angelic Host has handed great authority over the kingdoms of man to the Church of the Holy Cross, the guardian and bulwark of the Ente Islan people. Magic has been given to them eons ago to combat the forces of evil that had been present since the creation of the blessed land many millennia past.

While humanity would humbly submit to the rule of the Church and the laws of the gods, all lived in fear and trembling over one certain individual: The Dark Lord, Satan. His mere name would strike fear in every human heart; so much fear that he would not be spoken of. For Satan is the Devil, the ruler of demons, a King whose subjects are creatures of the night – creatures like werevolves, gargoyles, incubi, succubi, goblins, imps and many, many more. Satan has been setting his sights at Ente Isla for quite some time now, seeking to annex the blessed land into his kingdom of darkness, so that the demonic race would dominate in prosperity.

The Devil Satan has four great Demon Generals under his command, each with a different specialty.  
The first is Alciel, the tribe leader of the deceased Iron Scorpions. He serves as King Satan’s master strategist and specializes in lightning magic. His armor, the black skin, is said to be impenetrable.  
The second is Lucifer – Fallen Angel, Morningstar, Lightbringer, Son of the Dawn – he is known by many names and titles. He is the aerial commander, having authority over Satan’s aerial forces.  
The third is Adramelech, the Minotaur who hails from the tribe of the Ashen Horns. He does not use magic of any kind, relying on his brute force.  
And then, we have Malacoda, the dark sorcerer. Not much is known of him, only that he can use magic of any kind to great mastery.

At least, that is all humanity would know about Satan and his kingdom. However, as the ancient saying goes: War is deceit. One would be extremely foolish to disclose every single detail about one’s army. No one could accuse the Devil of being anything but extremely intelligent. Like any great ruler, he has an ace up his sleeve.

And that ace would be I, Emilia Justina.

Of course, humanity has no knowledge of this. After all, I am supposed to become the gilded Hero of the Church, the savior of mankind, the One destined to slay the Devil. The blood of Heaven courses through my veins; what fellowship, you may ask, would one of the Heavens have with the darkness of demons? For light and darkness do not mix; they are natural, sworn enemies.

On the other hand, there is an exception to every rule. And in my case, it is a very grave exception, for one event changed my life forever. One fateful event shattered my world into a million pieces, never to rise again.  
  


* * *

 

**_EMILIA_ **

**_*****_ **

 

The demon world is not for weak hearts. While humanity would look forward to the sun rising from the east every day, the demon world – my world – would have no such thing to look forward to. Demons would hate the sun, the symbol of light, hope and peace. So it would make sense for someone like me, who has been residing in this world ever since _that_ event to eventually hate the sun as well. And how _much_ I hate it. I loathe it with every fiber of my being. Stupid humans would see the sun rise every day and hold hope, as if they are promised tomorrow. No one is promised tomorrow. I know this better than anyone. Their visions, hopes and dreams are foolish. I scoff; there are so many other variants on mediocrity.

My world is one of darkness, one of a perpetually red sky. It is a world where predators are constantly prowling in the shadows, looking to devour unsuspecting victims. Civilization? That’s a pretty word. No such thing exists here. In here, your worth is determined by your strength – mental as well as physical strength. If you have neither, you are simply another poor soul in the long line of cannon fodders that have perished miserably before you. Those who are able enough would enlist to serve in the Demon King’s army, if only to live near or inside the Devil’s castle. And yes, life here in the castle is _harsh_ , but it is infinitely preferable over having to live in constant vigilance in the wilderness.

_Knock, knock._

I roll my eyes, letting out a hiss under my breath in great annoyance. Who would dare to disturb me in my line of thought? It better be important, because the poor soul will _not_ want to suffer my wrath. I will not tolerate any unnecessary annoyance.

“Enter.” I bellow sternly, unable to completely hide my annoyance. I rise from my comfortable seat, only to spot a black, feathery creature, much shorter in height than myself. He bows respectfully.

“Camio.” I say, feeling my voice and gaze soften considerably. It is very unusual to be visited by the Demon King’s minister. He has served as my guardian ever since the Devil has brought me to his castle, teaching me almost everything I currently know about the demon world. He has shown me nothing but kindness and understanding, hoping I would slowly be content serving his Liege.

I approach the bird-demon, patting him on his un-proportionally big head and smile at him. “I am glad to see you, minister.”

He chuckles lowly. “The pleasure is mine as well, Lady Emilia. His Majesty is requesting your presence.”

I tilt my head in surprise. “Lord Satan? What could he possibly want at this hour?”

“He did not say, my Lady. He merely told me that you are to come before his presence in the Throne Room _immediately._ ” I startle a bit, alarmed by Camio’s emphasis on the last word.

“It must be urgent, then. _Very_ urgent.”

Camio nods at my observation. It is very rare of the Demon King to send his minister, one of the most trusted individuals of his inner circle, to deliver such a deceptively simple order. I know Lord Satan; he is not one to trifle.

“Did Milord request only my presence, or are the other Generals to be present as well?” I inquire slowly.

Camio scratched his head in confusion. “That I do not know, my Lady. But I would presume that this urgent matter would involve the other Generals as well.”

I nod. “Understood, Camio. Escort me to Lord Satan’s Throne Room.”

Bowing again, he answers: “As you wish, my Lady.”

* * *

The castle might appear tall and narrow on the outside, but the halls are wide and long, _very_ long. Remembering when I first came here, my legs would hurt excruciatingly just from a mere walk from one hall to another. One thing I would always marvel at was the painted walls in all shades of purple and blue. The demonic sigils would leave me in awe, making me want to recreate them on parchment paper that Camio would provide so graciously for me. The painted walls would make the pain that stung in my legs bearable, until I would be used to walking such long periods. Needless to say, I still marvel at these walls. The Demon Lord is certainly not boring at all.

“Lord Satan.” I hear Camio’s firm voice in front of the large, gold-plated port that marked the entrance to the Devil’s Throne Room. My subconscious always fears audiences with the Demon Lord for some reason, even though he has never harmed me. I gulp to ease my nervousness.

“The Lady General, Sire.” Camio added, wasting no more time, opening the large port. The ever-so-familiar scenery is now displayed before me: Two royal blue banners, depicting the Demon Lord’s sigil, hang down next to his throne on opposite sides. The throne itself was large, coloured pitch-black with golden ornaments, seated on a tall and wide staircase. From the middle of the throne right to the entrance of the room, lay the crimson carpet I would always glide on with much countenance, careful not to anger my Lord. I suppose I do not need to say that it was Camio who taught me the ins and outs of royal etiquette.

Looking around, I spot very familiar faces: A tall fellow dressed in a blue mage robe that hides his face, another fellow with black, feathery wings and purple hair that is swung to the side, a brutish Minotaur, and, last but not least, an ashen blonde fellow, covered in black skin, swinging his characteristic scorpion tail around. He is the tallest of the four.

As I expected; I am not the only one that has been summoned before the Demon King.

“You are late, Emilia.” I hear the deep and raspy voice coming from the one with ashen blonde hair. The nerve he has! Apparently he has not been walking to the Throne Room by foot all these years. But I digress, not allowing myself to fall prey to the temptation of snapping at him.

“Alciel.” I answer him, my voice carefully neutral. “Mayhap I should remind you that His Majesty shall be the judge on my punctuality.”

“Can you not, for just this time, loosen up a bit?” a young voice moans, its owner standing next to Alciel, who in turn whips around to glare at him.

“May I remind you that it is an insult to arrive before our Sire that late, Lucifer?” Alciel bellows, immediately pointing at me.

The Fallen Angel simply rolls his eyes. “And who are _you_ to assume judgment over such trivial matters?”

“Stop it, this is getting annoying.” A low, brutish voice grumbles opposite of Alciel and Lucifer. He sounds clearly annoyed. The Mage next to him nods in agreement.

“Give it a rest already. She is here, that’s all that matters.” The blue-robed Mage hisses from beneath his garments.

Alciel looks like he is about to explode. “Annoying? _Annoying?_ Her blatant _lack_ of etiquette is annoying! She is insulting Lord Satan, we cannot ignore-“

“Alciel.”

The reptilian Demon General flinches immediately at the sound of that chilling, frightful and dark voice. “My Lord, she-“

“ _Enough._ ” the dark voice’s owner bellows from his throne, whose facial features are hard to read in the darkness. “Do not sully my presence with petty arguments.”

Alciel bowed in resignation. “Of.. of course, Sire.”

A large index finger beckons me to come forward. I walk forward, careful not to gaze at the one who sits on the throne, and kneel just before the first stair, inclining my head and crossing my arms, so that each hand would be positioned on my shoulders like wings.

“Emilia.” the dark voice speaks my name, whereas I try not to flinch in fear.

“My Lord.” I speak back in utmost reverence, “As you wished, I, your General, have honoured your summons.” I squint to catch a glimpse of the Demon Lord, barely making out a small smirk on his face.

“I am very pleased, Emilia. Four of the five isles in Ente Isla have already fallen to the might of our forces.”

I smile at the Demon King. “Indeed, so I have heard, Sire. Only the central isle remains, but I am sure that you shall be very successful in your endeavours.”

“Undoubtedly.” The Devil answers, “For the last isle, I have decided to enter the battlefield myself.”

Loud gasps could be heard from every General in the room. Even I, who had remained in this reverent position, must look up in surprise and shock. “King Satan… I…” I stammer, trying to look for the proper way to word this. “I.. I would highly advise against such a maneuver.. the humans are a devious lot, and if your castle is left unattended, who knows-“

“I already accounted for that, Lady Emilia.” he interrupts me, not sounding angry over my objection at all. “It is one of the reasons why I called you here.”

My face tilts in confusion. “My Lord?” I breathe out, looking at the Demon King with slight nervousness.

Satan chuckles amusedly. “You, Emilia, have a _very_ specific target.”

Hearing these words slowly ignites my bloodlust, making my red eyes flare up. “Yes…” I hiss.

“The headquarters of the Church.” Satan continues, making my eyes dilate more with glee.

“Yess..!!” I hiss, now considerably louder. I cannot help myself. I laugh out loud, coldly, making the Throne Room echo in my laughter. I pay no mind to the Demon Generals around me, who must be very disturbed and annoyed by this.

This day is slowly becoming the best day of my life. I have been waiting to hear these words for as long as I have been here. Satan has never allowed me to lead my own campaign against the Church, a fact that I have disdained for the longest time. It was simply unheard of for a Demon General to never lead an army into battle. However, instead of complaining, I would bide my time, patiently awaiting the order from my Lord.

“Enough laughter now, Lady Emilia.” I hear his voice, yanking me out of my thoughts, and I immediately obey.

“You shall lead the campaign against the Central Isle together with me.”

My eyes widen in shock. Have I heard right? The Demon Lord, the _Devil,_ wants to leap into battle, together with me?

“My.. Lord…” I find myself stammering again, “Are you sure…?”

He chuckles again. “Yes, it is time for you to be unleashed. Surely you have heard that you would become the Hero of that Church, yes?”

“Correct, Sire.”

“My, what a twist of fate – the one who was supposed to be their Hero, will instead be the instrument of their doom.”

My head sinks low, making my red bangs cover my vision, making it harder for Satan to read my feral, murderous gaze. My lips twist into a big, sadistic grin, picturing inside my mind the terror and dread of the desolated clergyfolk as soon as they would gaze upon their intended Hero, but instead, would only see their own blood spilt onto the ground.

I will have my revenge.


End file.
